Nowhere
by shialuvr222
Summary: A prompt from Agent LastWish. To include the quote, "Ai, the tears aren't stopping! Come back Ai! Please! Ai!" and the theme Nowhere/No where/Now here. Oneshot. Angsty.


A/N: So, here it is. The story written from a prompt by the wonderful Agent LastWish. This was originally a very rough draft, but she's happy with it, so I am too :) I think this could have been written better, but I've kept you guys and Agent LastWish waiting long enough. I love constructive criticism, and PLEASE review. Please.

The prompt:

"_Ai, the tears aren't stopping! Come back Ai! Please! Ai!"_

(I didn't know the origin of this ^, and neither did Agent LastWish, but she said I could make it up, so here we go :) )

To include:

_Nowhere  
><em>_No where  
><em>_Now here_

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, or the quote from the prompt, whoever it belongs to, so please, don't sue.

XXX

_Nowhere._

_None of this is fair_, he couldn't help but think as the word echoed through his mind. That haunting, terrifying word.

_Nowhere._

_No where._

Nonexistent, nonentity, void. Oblivion.

Sometimes he would wonder what it was like. Then he would give a short, humorless laugh. It was like nothing.

It _was_ nothing.

Why are people afraid of death, he wondered. It's simply a state of not being, as far as he was concerned. He couldn't bring himself to believe any differently anymore.

He didn't know if things happened too fast out in the field; it seems they might have, but he didn't remember much about the day. He remembered Gibbs calling "Man down" over the headset. Running until he was out of breath, and then persisting. Bringing Tim home in a bodybag. He remembered all of those things, but everything else was a blur.

He was angry, and rightfully so. Tim wasn't supposed to be dead. It wasn't right.

The problem was, he didn't know who to hate.

Gibbs and Ziva were blameless; by the time Gibbs had reached Tim, he was too far gone. Ziva had been with Tony, and the murderer was dead by his own hand, the coward. So there was nothing, no outlet for his grief, not even words for his senseless guilt.

_It wouldn't have been long, anyway._

It was painful, but true. Tim had never told them, but they knew he was sick. They pretended not to notice the pills he kept shoved in the back corner of his desk, or the frequency of the days he took off for doctor visits. He denied any questions they asked, and eventually they were forced to settle for supporting without details.

All of them had watched as he visibly declined, despite his best efforts to hide the fact that his health was in shambles. Headaches were constant, and the dark circles under his eyes added to his gaunt appearance. He looked even paler than usual, if possible.

Only once had Tony seen him with his guard down, when he had just given himself a shot in the men's room. He hadn't realized he was being watched, and he had run his hand over his face, taking a long, shuddering breath. It was at that moment that Tony realized how much weight must be on his shoulders, to be carrying this alone. The moment he made a bit of noise to discreetly alert his friend of his presence, Tim's façade had reappeared almost instantaneously.

Maybe it was merciful. It seemed like a horrible thought – he would give anything for Tim to be here now – but there was less suffering involved for everyone this way.

Tony remembered how, the week he recovered from the plague, he had stayed at Ducky's to recuperate, and, in his boredom, had located some of the older books in the M.E.'s library. One of them had been about the Irish Rebellion of 1641. There was something in it that he didn't quite understand at the time:

"_Ai, the tears aren't stopping! Come back Ai! Please! Ai!"_

It made sense now. While the older context and grammar threw him off a bit, it was basically a person begging someone they cared about to return. _Don't go,_ he pictured them choking out. _Please._

He hated himself for thinking it was better this way. He didn't understand how bad things happened to good people. He wanted to punch something or, more specifically, someone. He hated Tim for leaving, and then hated himself for blaming Tim.

_Nowhere._

_No where._

_Now here._

A/N: So what did you think? I think the ending could have been written better, because let's face it, it isn't really an ending at all, but oh well, I guess. Please review - free cyber-cookies if you do! :)


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